Just Another Day

My sister bought me the cutest little plant. And even though I usually have much luck with plants, it is one in an alarmingly fast succession of plants that I am managing to kill. What about you- green thumb or black thumb?

Now, I'm sure you all remember that I washed our cell phone, right? And that was after I had lost a brand new one mere days after getting it. With me still? Well, we got a new one. And Hubba-hubba forbid me to use it. At first, I tried to pretend I didn't want it. I would mutter under my breath that he could take his stupid cell phone and sleep with it if he liked it that much. Then, on a day when I took Mr. P and one of his buddies out for the day, I was annoyed that he wouldn't at least let me have it on days when I was going to be out. And with someone else's child! What if his mom had needed to get hold of me as we were bowling? What then? And to be honest, I think Hubba-hubba enjoyed it. He so very rarely has anything he can hold over my head that he needed to revel in it for a while. It is a feeling he doesn't get to experience very often, so he apparently felt he needed to milk it for all he was worth. Then one day we had an argument about shooting water guns

Is it already almost Wednesday? This week has totally flown by me so far. Sunday, we went to the La Brea Tar Pits, and for those of you not from this area, it is the premier fossil site in the United States, at least for animals from a certain period, most likely ending with -cene. As is Pleistocene or whatever. I was watching the little movie, but for some reason wasn't paying whole lot of attention. They really do have a tar pit there, and it is pretty cool too see it bubbling up with methane every few seconds. Mr. P was utterly fascinated, and even more so when we found eruptions of tar on the ground. He was able to poke sticks in it and other various plant materials, which trumped the entire museum. We should have just saved the seven bucks a pop and let him play with the dang tar. But this is what I have been waiting for, the day when we can take him to a museum and he can truly process all the information. He's been to museums, but mostly of the child-centered kind.

And not just because I just put on a sweater. You guys made me feel so much better on the first day. I mean, even if you are lying (and if you are, you should become professional liars, because I totally believe you) it still was so nice. Big smooches to all of you, except perhaps Corky, who I think would get just a little too excited. And, I now seem to be dealing with a son who has turned into a mercenary. All he can think of is money. How to get it. How he wants more. How he wants to be rich, richer than anyone in the whole world. I really need to have him stop watching Aladdin. So, we have instituted an allowance, of which he has to give about ten percent to charity, twenty percent he has to save, and the rest is his to do with has he pleases. Oh, yeah, and today I found out it would cost over seven hundred dollars to fix our regrigerator. Can anyone say, new refrigerator time? P.S. I have a new post up over there . Well, pretty much every day I will have a new post up ther

Well, today is the day for the launch of the new blog. Well, sometime Monday morning. I'm just the hired help, I don't make the big calls. It is called Teeny Manolo . Please, please, link to it, bookmark it, subscribe to it. Even if you NEVER look at it again, it will help ensure that I still have a job four months from now. You think I'm kidding, don't you? Well, I'm not, so start right-clicking! Oh, but if you do happen to go on to the site, feel free to leave comments like, "Glinda, you are hilarious!" or "Glinda, you are so funny, how do you stand yourself?" But, can I just say how excited I am to be doing this? Can I now call myself a "writer" and not be sort of lying? I had been a fan of the Manolo for a while, and had subscribed to his site for months and months before he put out an open call for writers for a blog on kids and parenting, and of course, shoes and clothes. There was a nameless person (don't worry, it is

Many many moons ago, I volunteered for a meme over at Pole Hill Sanitarium . Silly me, I allowed Dr. S to assign me a letter of the alphabet and then I was to list all of my favorite things that began with that letter. My friends, he gave me the letter P. I was stumped. I could think of perhaps three things. And this whole time, I haven't been able to think of any more. Purses- I love purses! All kinds! Pugs- You either love them or hate them, and I think they are so cute! Plants- I really like plants! They are pretty and green and they help the environment, what's not to like? Pasta- Ok, you guys reminded me of that one. Ok, so now it is your turn- Give me something you really like that begins with the letter P. And this is a family blog, so keep it clean! Yes, I'm talking to you .

Have you ever visited Allrecipes ? It's one of my favorite sites. Oh yeah, the recipes are good. But what I really like to do is read the recipe reviews left by people. No matter what the recipe, it seems there is always someone who gives it five stars. It could be some god-awful thing like bacon-wrapped cupcakes and somebody's gonna love it. Then, there are the people who give the recipe four or five stars, but add that they only rated it that high because they themselves strayed from the recipe and added garlic powder, peppercorns and maple syrup. And of course, these might have been a fine addition to the recipe, but they rarely list the quantity, thus making their comment absolutely useless. Unless of course, you have time to muck around with peppercorns, and if so, my hat is off to you. Sometimes you will get a fairly incomprehensible commenter who is channeling James Joyce's Ulysses, because it will be a stream-of-consciousness essay on what kind of night it was

Did he remember to take out the trash? Nope. Did he bring out a laundry basket when doing the laundry? No way. Did he remember to properly close the Ziploc holding the cookies, thus rendering them stale? Nopity-popity. Did the dishes, which needed to be loaded into the dishwasher, find their own way inside, without his guiding hand? Not. But, in the wee hours of the morning before work, did he remember to take out the Yankee tickets he had stashed away in the china cabinet so that he and his buddies could attend the game tonight? Of course. He has his priorities in life, you know.

Dear Complainer, I think you thought you were being clever when you chose the "other" option on my little poll. Perhaps you thought you would make your distaste of the names I have listed known to the world. But, you only made them known to me. You wrote, oh so tactfully, "Anything but those listed! Blech!" At least you can spell correctly, I'll give you that. However, instead of being part of the perceived problem, why not make yourself part of the solution? If all the names were so very horrifying, where was your awesome suggestion that would blow all others out of the water and make me realize my folly? The name that I would choose to be known as to millions thousands maybe a hundred people? But no, you instead chose to just complain and provide no insight, no big idea of your own. Just sat back and excercised your brain power only enough to spell "blech" correctly. Did you recognize any of the names from any of the books they are drawn from?

All right, I was trying to keep this on the down-low, but I am in desperate need of help. I was recently hired (yes, OMG I will actually be PAID) to blog at a site that encourages the use of pseudonyms. My friends, I suck royally at pseudonyms. So, I want you to choose for me. That way, you see, if it sucks I won't have to take any responsibility for it. I'll just point the finger your way. If you think you recognize some of the names from literature, you would be absolutely correct. And if you hate all of them, feel free to give me your own! Then, I can really blame you! *In response to Nance, the focus will be parenting, kids, fashion, and celebrity babies. Have you heard of Manolo the Shoeblogger ? I will be working for him on a site (not up yet) called "Teeny Manolo."

Hello, hello? Is anybody out there? You know, you are not allowed to have lives or priorities other than blogging, right? And commenting? Sigh. I know, it's been a long, busy week. I feel you. Do you consider yourself a good speller?

Now, even though I obviously, er, manipulated my answers for my previous post, I am doing it differently for your questions. I am asking the question out loud, then shaking the ball six times. I will then put up exactly what comes up, pinky swear! The things I do for you people! Maternal Mirth asks: Will there be traffic on M&M's commute tomorrow? M&M, I'm guessing the answer will be the same no matter what day you are referring to! Dana asks: Will I ever get my garage sale crap sorted and priced in time for my August 25 sale?? Dana, you might start worrying. Karla wants to know: Will I ever learn how to cook? Mark had better start learning how to forage. Captain Corky has a burning need to know: Will Captain Corky hit the powerball tonight? Well, at least it wasn't flat out "no." Those are rough. Just be sure to give me and the 8 Ball our ten percent cut, ok? Nance queries: Hey, Magic 8 Ball--is it going to be 90 and humid on my first day back

A relative gave Mr. P a Magic 8 Ball as a gift, but I found myself sneaking it out of his room to ask it questions. I now base my entire life on the answers the Magic 8 Ball gives me. It's never been wrong yet. Here, I'll show you... Dear Magic 8 Ball, will the next President be a Republican? Will George Clooney ever invite me to Lake Como? Will drivers who have the audacity to cut me off on the freeway be sent to the seventh circle of hell? The expensive plant my sister bought me, will I wind up killing it? Hubba-hubba wants to know, will I ever fold that pile of laundry in the bedroom? All hail the Magic 8 Ball! Anybody else got a question?

I have met so many bloggers in real life lately, it has been so liberating. I mean, I am used to toiling here behind the scenes, a faceless entity judged only by the words on paper. I have sort of reveled in the anonymity, but figured maybe people might be a bit curious to see me, as I always enjoy seeing pictures of my bloggy friends. So I thought perhaps that I would eschew the Cindy Brady picture of my first grade self on the first day of school, and come up with a picture possibly taken in at least the last decade. But then I thought, no, that's cheating. It needs to be a recent photo, or that is just false advertising. Oh sure, I could put up a picture of me at 28 that looks fabulous, but it doesn't necessarily look like I do now. Yes, it is my face, but I would like to think that all the experiences I have had up until now have shaped the way I look, for good or bad. Off I went into the photo archives of the computer, attempting to find a picture that didn't mak

I am kicking back, relaxing at the party. I watch a man walk over to the appetizer table. On the way, I see him cough into his hand. Not a big huge hacking cough, but there was definitely transference of saliva. The man gets to the table. I'm keeping an eye out, because I am curious if he will use the same hand to grab some caprese or wield one of the communal spoons or whatever. Worse. He reaches out, and in some sort of slow motion, I watch as he gleefully plunges the coughed-upon hand into the bowl of mixed nuts, digging around a bit. He pulls his handful of nuts out, and nonchalantly walks away, nibbling on a macadamia with a smug satisfaction. What was I supposed to do at this point? Fling myself out my chair, pointing at the offending nut-eater for all to see? Power my way through the crowd at the appetizer table and grab the nut dish, carrying the germ-laden contents safely into the kitchen away from the innocent party-goers? I was frozen as someone else sidestepped fro

This Saturday, we are having a big birthday bash for my Grandfather, who will turn 90 years old. Can you believe that? I mean, think of everything he has seen invented since 1917, not to mention experiencing things such as the space program and World War II. Amazing. Who is your oldest relative and how old are they?

Every day, the biggest fight I have with my son is the one where I ask him to put away the toys. And I can understand his reluctance, because boy, that kid really knows how to make a mess. So today, when I asked him to clean up the fort comprised of various boxes and toys and blankets, the resistance was swift and vehement. I told him that if he didn't do as I asked, he would not have the privilege of helping me to make dinner, nor would he get dessert. I told him, once again, to pick up the living room. I heard nothing but silence. Then, I was handed this: Methinks this four year old is just a wee bit too smart for his own good. Or mine.

About a month or so ago, I made a decision. It would make me look much better to say that I agonized over the decision for days, weeks. That I swung back and forth, gnashing my teeth with uncertainty. Nope. After about five minutes, I decided to go ahead and put ads up on my sidebar. To redeem myself a bit, I had been thinking about putting them up for practically years. I would see other people with ads and become instantly jealous of the bazillion dollars a year they were raking in. And here I was, missing out on becoming an instant thousandaire because of some silly crap like ethics or something. Because I know that some people (hi eb!) regard ads on a personal blog as akin to "being invited into someone's living room and then being bombarded by billboards." I may not be exact on that quote, but it was something very similar. So, I hesitated. I certainly didn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable in my living room, for goodness sakes. But then I thought, well,

I consider myself a fairly cultured person, but for some reason, I am sort of hit and miss with musical theater. I think a lot of times, I have to remind myself that this is LIVE and it isn't a movie with tons of special effects. I remember seeing a production of Les Miserables in San Francisco, and almost wanting to walk out, I thought it was so bad. But I have also seen a local production of Showboat, which I had no problem with. Last night we went to see Wicked, which is playing at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. I have been to every major theater in the greater Southern California area, but never the Pantages. Well, at least I saved the best for last. The place is an Art Deco palace of the likes I have never seen. It was fabulous, gorgeous, fantastic and any other divine adjective you could think of. I mean, for a while I was like, forget the show, I'm totally into the theater . It was built in the 1920's, and hosted the Oscars for over a decade. Here are a

Welcome to the "Wicked" edition of Pointless Points Trivia, where the points don't matter. That's right, just like my attempts to find a nice outfit to wear for the show tomorrow night, they just don't matter! Although, it should be noted that this question is based on the book , not the musical. The book is one of my favorites, and I will let you know how the musical stacks up. What is the name of Elphaba's dog?

Are you a heavy or light sleeper?

A while ago, Ginger tagged me for this. And seeing as how almost everyone has done this already, I'm not tagging anyone. I'm a rebel like that. 4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth. - Puppies and kittens. Their cute little faces and waggy tails annoy me. Not to mention the fact they aren't potty trained. - Happy people. They smile too much. This includes newlyweds and children at birthday parties. - Chocolate covered pretzels. Whenever they are around, like they were on the 4th of July, I cannot stop myself from eating loads of them. Therefore, the best solution is just to keep them away from me permanently. No one else should get them either. - Clowns. Seriously, people are scared of them for good reason. 3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently. - Volunteer their time for the benefit of others. It makes everyone else look bad. - Whistle cheerfully to themselves. Are they trying to infect other people